


Step On My Bleeding Heart

by Lady_of_Inklings



Series: Molten Gold Dreams [3]
Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Bodyguard, Angst and Humor, Bodyguard AU, Bodyguard Katsuki Yuuri, Chris the Wise, Drunken Kissing, Fashion Designer Victor Nikiforov, High Heels, Light Angst, M/M, Praise him and his sagely advice, Viktor in heels, clubs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-18
Updated: 2018-10-18
Packaged: 2019-08-03 19:07:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,593
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16331810
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lady_of_Inklings/pseuds/Lady_of_Inklings
Summary: Viktor emerged dressed stylishly as ever in a pastel blue dress shirt that matches his eyes, his top buttons undone, showing off the lines of his collarbone. His black cigarette pants clung to his long legs stopping just above his ankles to expose the strappy gold and black heels he wore.His poor brain stops functioning for a minute, and his heart swells inside his chest. He feels like a teenager waiting for their prom date at the foot of the stairs.Day 3 of Yuri on ice Fashion Week: Footwear





	Step On My Bleeding Heart

You think three months is enough to understand Viktor’s hectic schedule but here Yuuri was, dressed head to toe in a black three-piece suit waiting patiently at the door for Viktor who liked making split-second decisions like they were nothing. Yuuri had specific rules in place to keep Viktor safe and the man was hellbent on breaking every single one of them.

A party meant paparazzi which meant Viktor was going to get dressed up which meant Yuuri had to as well which meant…...they were late. According to Viktor, the party started around eight and it was currently half past nine.

Wonderful.

“Are you done yet?” He asks for the _nth_ time this evening.

“Beauty takes time, Yuuri.” Viktor retorts. His voice echoes loudly through the apartment, bouncing through the walls.

“You’re going to be late, Viktor,” He repeats for the nth time this evening.

“ _We’re_ going to be late,” Viktor reminds him swiftly causing Yuuri to roll his eyes at his tone, unsure if the Russian man was serious or not. “And it’s not a proper party if you’re not fashionably late.”

Yuuri wants to groan but he stuffs his hands into his pocket and leans against the wall with a thump. Makkachins claws scratch across the wooden floor as the poodle trots across the hall and settles at Yuuri’s feet, she holds a new squeaky toy in her mouth tempting Yuuri into playing with her. He squats down, taking the squeaky toy away from her.

Viktor adored the old poodle, often spoiling her. He’s a completely different person when he is with Makkachin. It was pleasant news to learn what a dork, a very hot and talented dork…...that he's supposed to protect. 

God, he was screwed.

In the past three months, Viktor Nikiforov, _The World's Most Beautiful Man_ transformed into Viktor, a kind man with sweet heart-shaped smiles and laughter that made Yuuri melt from the inside.

“Makkachin,” Yuri whispers, scratching her behind her ears. “Why is your master like this?”

The only response he gets is Makkachin wagging her tail enthusiastically. Yuuri sighs and throws the toy, Makkachin running off with an excited bark.

It seemed Makkachin was more excited about this than him.

Yuuri heard the sound of the door of Viktor’s room swinging open, light spilling into the empty living room. Viktor emerged, the sound of heels echoing. Yuuri had grown used to the sound clicking heels for the better part of these three months, he wasn’t sure how Viktor managed to walk in them so gracefully; it was like he was walking on water, almost swan-like. Yuuri had occasionally worn heels for previous jobs but he was sure he’d never look half as effortless. If only

Viktor emerged dressed stylishly as ever in a pastel blue dress shirt that matches his eyes, his top buttons undone, showing off the lines of his collarbone. His black cigarette pants clung to his long legs stopping just above his ankles to expose the strappy gold and black heels he wore.

As if to complete the look, he threw on a striped coat that was draped over his shoulders, ending just above his knees and swaying with each step he took.

His poor brain stops functioning for a minute, and his heart swells inside his chest. He feels like a teenager waiting for their prom date at the foot of the stairs.

He gulped.

“Well? What do you think?” Viktor asked him as he stopped in front of him. He twirls, showing off his heels. “Yuuri?”

“It’s perfect, Viktor,” Yuuri said, honestly. “Beautiful.”

Viktor raised a carefully groomed eyebrow at him, his blue eyes glimmering with mischief that Yuuri was starting to learn meant nothing but bad news for his fragile heart. It seemed Viktor had every bit of intention to bring Yuuri to his knees. (Not that Yuuri minded if Viktor asked him, he would do more than just sink to his knees for him. Viktor could step on him with his heels and Yuuri would probably thank him.)

“Where are your heels? You are not wearing converse.” Viktor glanced down to his feet, disapproving of the boots he wore which were sensible and sane. Yuuri rolls his eyes. “I spent a full hour picking out those heels for you, Yuuri.”

“I don’t think they would work with me,” Yuuri stares firmly. “I highly doubt anyone is going to look down at my feet.”

“Not the point, they made you look fabulous.”

“I’m already fabulous,” Yuuri said, moving to open the door. “Let’s go.”

“Yuuri,” He purred, stopping him from opening the door. He stood only a few inches from Yuuri, his lips widening into a mischevious grin. His heart speeds up. “Feel my jacket.”

“Why?”

“Do it.”

“Fine,” Yuuri huffed, uncertain of what exactly Viktors intentions where. His coat was soft and warm to the touch, but he still didn’t know why he was touching it. He looked at Viktor with questioning eyes which seemed to amuse him further. "Why are you like this?" He murmured underneath his breath. 

“Know what’s it’s made out of?”

“Cotton? Wool?”

Viktor leaned in close, whispering into his ear. “Boyfriend material.”

Yuuri pushes him away with a snort, both of them laughing at Viktors ridiculousness. He should’ve known that Viktor would say something so extra. 

“You’re hilarious,” Yuuri deadpanned, opening the door. “Now let's go before Chris gets mad at us.”

 

 

The ride to the club was silent, Yuuri sat behind the wheel and Viktor day next to him in the passenger seat taking selfies of the both of them. He smiled lightly as he concentrated on the road, Viktor cooing at him to look into the camera.

When they finally arrived at the club, the paparazzi were already there with cameras at the ready. Yuuri felt his smile drop, glaring at the vultures through the tinted glass. Viktor sighed, his smile turning into one of his signature million watt smiles that fooled others but not Yuuri. Just a few minutes and they would be in the club with bad lighting and questionable music.

Yuuri steeled his expression and stepped out of the car first, the camera flashes nearly blinding him. Some of the ‘reporters’ yelled questions at him that he didn’t answer, he knew most of them by heart and they slid off him like raindrops on glass. He reached Viktors side, opening the door and holding his hand out for him. The camera flashes went crazy.

Viktor looked at him, his smile a bit more gentle, reaching out to entwined their hands. Yuuri squeezes his hand, silently telling him that he was here.

They make it past the crowd and into the club, shedding their jackets as Viktor pulled Yuuri through the sea of dancing bodies and bright lights into a booth where Chris sat, the cigarette from his smoke curling through the lights that lit up the table.

“Vitya,” he greeted, peeking up from his phone when Viktor slid in next to him. “You’re here! Took you long enough!”

“Yuuri insisted that we be fashionably late,” he winked at Yuuri.

“Bullshit.” This is why Yuuri liked Chris. (Now if only the older man would stop groping him every time they saw each other.) “I’m sure you must’ve waited forever for the drama queen to get out of the bathroom, my friend.”

He silently agreed with Chris.

The drinks flowed quickly and Viktor was intent on finishing all of them despite Yuuri’s warnings. He winked, throwing back a shot. Chris wasn’t helping, instigating Viktors bad habits further till the silver-haired man smiled up at him openly and proceeded to climb into Yuuri’s lap after the fourth drink, wrapping his arms around his neck and giggling.

“Yuuri!” Viktor whined, tilting Yuuri’s face up with his index finger. “Dance with me, darling!”

“Now?”

“No, next year,” Viktor rolled his eyes dramatically. Yuuri was tempted to roll his won eyes. “Yes, now!”

“How much have you had to drink?” Yuuri asked him, his arms winding around Viktors waist to keep him from falling. Several flashes went off from several different phones followed by drunken giggles. No doubt, the pictures of them were going to get leaked and Yakov would have a fit. Again. “I don’t want you to get hurt.”

“But want to dance with you,” Viktor said, climbing off Yuuri’s lap.

Yuuri eyes his heels warily, wondering just how he was able to walk in them still.

He grabbed his hands, pulling him from his spot from the booth and dragging him towards the floor. Yuuri wasn’t sure how it was always him that ended up in these situations, Viktor was like a hurricane that just seemed to sweep him up in his chaos.

And Yuuri willingly went along with it.

Dancing was great, dancing with Viktor was amazing. Yuuri felt the music thrum through his heart mixing in with Viktors laughter as he spun the silver-haired man around. They danced in their own little world, hands on each other and eyes closed’ too lost and a little bit high off the feeling of each other. It was peaceful in the most disorganized way. Yuuri didn’t need to drink a single drop of alcohol to feel some sort of high, just Viktors touch alone was enough.

“Yuuri,” Viktor purred his name, the same glint he saw earlier returning to his eyes. Yuuri shivered at the sound of his name. His hands cup his face tenderly. “You’re so beautiful.”

They were so close to each other that they were separated only by their clothes. Yuuri’s breath hitched when Viktor’s hand held onto his hips and pulled him closer. He looked up at him, taking in his features in the dimly lit room.

It’s almost midnight when the DJ plays changes the song.

Viktor kisses him.

And Yuuri lost his damn mind.

It was possibly the best and worst thing to ever happen to him, every bit maddening and craving as he expected it to be. His lips were soft and sweet, tasting like alcohol and mint. Yuuri makes a non-committal sound and closes his eyes, kissing back and squeeze his arms around Viktors shoulders.

No way he was ever going to let Viktor go now after this.

(This boy was his now.)

Viktor pulled away, separating with a wet pop. Yuuri barely had time to regain his breath when Viktor kissed him again, his tongue delving into his mouth and stealing the air from his lungs. Yuuri felt dizzy, high on the euphoric feeling of Viktor licking into him. They moved against each other to the beat of the music, moaning into each other’s mouths as the world disappeared, the edges of their visions fraying.

“Mmm Viktor,” Yuuri pulled away. Viktor chased his lips, pressing several more kisses there. “You’re drunk.”

“And?” Viktor asked between kisses.

“You shouldn’t be kissing me.”

“Why not?” Viktor kisses his forehead and then his eyelids and finally his lips again. “Don’t you like me too, Yuuri? Because I like you a lot.” He murmured against his lips. "I know you do as well."

“I do.” He admitted.

“I’m sensing a but….”

“But we can’t.” Yuuri closes his eyes, coming back to his senses. It feels like he’s plummeting back down to earth, like Icarus flying too close to the sun. “I’m your bodyguard. It would be highly unprofessional.”

“Who cares about that?” He tilts his face up, his eyes soft and his smile genuine. Yuuri feels his heart skip, out of beat with the music. “I like you, I like you so much. Don’t you like me too? Don’t you want me too, Yuuri? Please, Yuuri. Tell me.”

“I can’t,” Yuuri tells him. _He’s drunk, he doesn’t mean it._ Yuuri keeps telling himself this, it sticks in his mind like moss on an old, dirty window. “I’m sorry, Viktor. I can’t.”

The club lights flash red across Viktors face and by the time the colour changes, all traces of emotion are gone from his face. His hands go slack, leaving Yuuri’s body and he takes a step back before turning around and walking back into the crowd. The sound of his heels are loud, echoing like thunderclaps as he walks away from him.

Yuuri notices he’s walking towards the bar but doesn’t stop him.

He misses the warmth of his hands already.

 

 

He slinks back to the booth when Chris sits, leaning back and enjoying a glass of champagne with a strawberry at the bottom. Chris looks dishevelled with berry-colored lipstick smeared across his face and neck.

(Glad to see at least somebody was getting some action.)

Yuuri sits down, wondering if he should drink or not.

Chris gives him a look, all-knowing and a little too smug. It should bother him but Yuuri only sighs and plops his head down onto the surface of the table, barely registering the pain.

“Hmmm, I see Viktor and you have been busy.” Yuuri remained silent. “Why aren’t you back at his place? By the way you two were kissing out on the dance floor, I thought you’d be at the very least screwing in the bathroom by now.”

Yuuri scowled. “Very funny, Chris.”

“So that’s a no then?”

Yuuri looked out at the sea of people, Viktor was still sitting at the bar with an increasing pile of drinks. He should stop him but right now he just wanted to sulk from a distance while lamenting over the stupid decisions in his life.

Chris followed his gaze.

“I see.”

“Do you?” Yuuri scoffed.

“Viktors not very good with romance, you know?” Chris said, he pointed at him with his glass. “That boy is way too clueless, it would be funny if it wasn’t so sad.”

“Chris,” Yuuri said in a weary voice. “If you have a point, I’d like to hear it.”

“You two really are perfect for each other,” He said, shaking his head. Yuuri wasn’t sure if he heard those words right or not. “Viktor’s doesn’t know much about love, he usually takes what’s handed to him and just blindly accepts it which just ends up tearing his heart into bits. But with you, he wants to hold onto something and at first, I was sceptical of it but the more I see, the more I understand.”

Yuuri looked at him quizzically.

“Still don’t get it?”

He shook his head.

“Hopeless,” Chris said, slightly exasperated. “You both are hopeless. No wonder Yakov wants to strangle the both of you.”

Yuuri closes his eyes, recalling the kiss and the way Viktor held him. The feeling of his lips was burned into his brain along with his heart-shaped smile and his sad blue eyes. Yuuri never knew much about love, he seldom thought he was worthy of it but when Viktor looked at him, he felt something bloom inside his chest.

He didn’t know what it was. 

Was that love?

Or just the starting of it?

He couldn’t risk being emotionally compromised no matter how much he wanted to, his feeling for Viktor were dangerous. Viktor came first before everything else, and that was the way it was supposed to be. There were more important things than their hearts.

Yuuri turns his gaze back towards Viktor. The seat where he sat was empty, several glasses laid on the counter, some were tipped over and others were still unfinished. He stood up abruptly, eyes frantically sweeping across the club for Viktor, fearing the worst. Ah, he was such an idiot. He looked away for only a few seconds and Viktor was gone. Several scenarios ran through Yuuri’s mind, each one worse than the last.

“I hope you two figure it out,” Chris said, pointing his glad towards the bathrooms. Ever vigilant and surprisingly wise, he was a surprising character and Yuuri was grateful.

Yuuri finds his way through the crowd, pushing people out of the way. The bathrooms were empty besides the sound of sniffling. Viktor is curled up, his back pressed the wall holding his knees close to his chest. 

“Don’t leave me. Please don’t leave me," He whimpers silently. "Not again......."

"Viktor?"

His head snaps up as Yuuri approaches him. 

Viktor was like a giant ornate silver mirror with cracks running up and down the glossy surface, showing what lay underneath. Whether it was beautiful or not lay entirely with Yuuri.

He sniffled, hiding his face from Yuuri once more.

Yuuri crouched down, lifting Viktors face up from his knees. His heart tore itself to shreds as tears fell down his face, diamond-like at they caught the light and slid off his face. He still found Viktor to be beautiful when he was crying but that wasn’t what was important right now.

“Y-Yuuri?” Viktor looked fragile, his eyes watery and broken. Yuuri cupped his face, using his thumb to wipe away the tears. God, they were a pair of hot messes who knew nothing about being with another person. How were the both of them suppose to get through this? “I thought you left….”

“Never,” Yuuri said.

He kissed Viktor, soft and sweet and unhurried. The kiss was permeated by the taste of salt, strawberry flavoured gloss and the taste of Viktors lips. Yuuri pulled away, looking into Viktors eyes, silently apologizing.

“I’m so sorry,” Yuuri whispered, touching their foreheads together. “I’m so, sorry, Viktor.”

“I want to go home.”

“Okay,” He said kissing him again. Viktor kisses back, his hands tangling in his hair and clutching the dark strands between his pale fingers. Yuuri gasps when Viktor tugs on his hair, slipping his tongue past his lips. It’s sloppy but Yuuri doesn’t mind.

“Take me home, Yuuri?” Viktor repeated, pulling away. He looked dazed, eyes bearing into his. “I want you to take me home.”

Yuuri nodded, pressing several kisses to his cheeks and eyelids before reaching down for his heels. It would be hard for Viktor to walk out of the club with those heels on and the last thing Yuuri wanted was for Viktor to hurt himself falling down. He undid the clasp, starting to pull off the right heel before Viktor stopped him.

“What?”

“Don’t.” His hand tightened on his.

Yuuri sighs. “Viktor, it’ll be difficult to walk in them.”

“It’ll ruin the outfit, Yuuri.”

“But—-“

“I’ll look hideous.”

Yuuri took a deep breath in and then slowly released it. He had no patience for Viktors extraness right now but getting frustrated with a very drunk Viktor wouldn’t help matters right now, they were both tired and very snappy. The night had been an eventful one that they hadn’t been expecting.

They were both tired.

Too uncertain.

Too scared.

Too…..exhausted to care about the music or the paparazzi that lingered outside.

“Fine,” Yuuri huffed, kissing his forehead again. “You’re lucky I like you.”

He scooped Viktor into his arms and stood up. Viktor yelped, wrapping his arms around his neck and holding on tightly as Viktor walked towards the entrance of the club. Viktor felt small in his arms, vulnerable.

“You really are my knight in shining armour.”

“What about Chris?” He asked. The blond hair man raised his glass at him and winks. Yuuri blushes, looking away but his knowing eyes follow him.

“He’ll be fine,” Viktor reassures, nuzzling into his neck. His warm lips kissed his neck. “I want you to take me home now, Yuuri.”

 

 

Silence greeted them as they arrived home. Makkachin is fast asleep, snoring lightly as Yuuri carried Viktor to his room.

“Warm,” Viktor mutters into his chest. “You’re so warm, Yuuri.”

“Well…...I'm wearing a jacket.”

He puts Viktor down, gently sliding off his clothes starting with unbuttoning his shirt. It’s hard to do when Viktor keeps attaching himself to him like an overly affectionate octopus, whispering into his ear and kissing his neck. (He somehow succeeds taking his shirt and belt off without getting a boner.)

Yuuri gently pushes him to sit down at the edge of the bed before sinking down to his knees to take off Viktor heels for him. Not quite how he imagines it to be honest but they’d have time for those type of things in the future. He pulls off the gold and black torture devices, setting them to the side on the nightstand.

“Yuuri?” Viktor looks down at him with sad blue eyes. Yuuri looks up and knows what he wants. Viktor kisses him immediately, sweetly taking his time, breathing him in and savouring the kiss. Yuuri kisses back but pulls back quickly, blushing. 

“Stay with me,” He demands him and Yuuri wants to. He wants to stay so _badly_. He wants to stay by Viktors side forever if the elder man allowed it.

“You’re drunk,” Yuuri said, pushing away the covers. The words felt more and more like an excuse. “You need to sleep. We'll talk in the morning.”

“ _Please._ ”

Yuuri knows it’s a bad idea, he’s already in too deep as it is but right now the idea of falling asleep is more tempting than his own rationality. Viktor reaches for his hand and Yuuri pulls him into bed. He lays next to Viktor and wrapping his arms around him, smoothing out his hair and kissing the crown of his head. Viktor smells like smoke, alcohol and something floral; Yuuri isn't sure if he likes the scent or not but for some odd reason it’s comforting.

"I wish you were always here." Viktor murmured quietly into his chest. "Stay close to me, Yuuri." 

Yuuri closes his eyes, his hands running through Viktor's hair. 

“Goodnight, Viktor.”


End file.
